


FMK

by Jellycho (Nyxokal)



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Background Relationships, Canon Compliant, Canon Era, Fluff and Humor, Friendship, Gen, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, POV Third Person Limited, Pre-Canon, Team Bonding, Team as Family, Timelapse Fic, bros being bros
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-30
Updated: 2016-10-10
Packaged: 2018-08-15 15:13:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 14,354
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8061364
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nyxokal/pseuds/Jellycho
Summary: Everything is new when Genji Shimada arrives into Overwatch; a new group, a new life, a new body. In his struggle to acclimate to all of this, he meets another young agent named Jesse McCree, a man who somehow makes things a little easier with his strange sense of humour and his contagious happiness, and is thrust into one of the strangest yet most rewarding friendships of his life.Or: the five times Jesse McCree initiated a game of Fuck, Marry, Kill, and the one time Genji Shimada did.





	1. 1.

**Author's Note:**

> McGenji is pure and hoo boi do I love me some platonic McGenji
> 
> Special thanks to Megs and Aly for readin' the drafts and betaing, and to the Discord team for enabling me and giving me shitloads of ideas. Also for everyone on Twitter for voting on the poll for me to post in chapters. Thank you soooooo much!!!
> 
> Anyway, here's to another Twitter shitpost that turned into an actual fanfic [raises tequila shot]. Hope y'all like it!!
> 
>  **Edit:** This fic has a [Spotify playlist](https://open.spotify.com/user/12126856885/playlist/430ndwbkVcH3hoih4ItmYM) that I used to set the mood for myself as I was writing. Give it a listen if you'd like!

Here’s a list of what Genji Shimada has heard about Jesse McCree during his stay in Overwatch, or at least the short version of said list:

One, he's only two years older than Genji. He joined at age seventeen, the madman, and has stayed directly under Commander Reyes’ wing since day one; if you can’t find either Reyes or McCree on their own, then you're most likely to find them training together, or to find McCree following the Commander around like a stray puppy. Two, he's bilingual, speaking both English and Spanish in a fluent manner. This makes Genji wonder if that point ties in with number one — Commander Reyes does, after all, also speak both.

Three, he's a young smoker. Many have been the times when Genji's heard the echoes of loud complaints to the Commander or to Captain Morrison through the bases' hallways and rooms, other strikers and staff asking for something to be done about McCree and his secondhand smoke, about the trail of ashes he always leaves behind. Genji knows for a fact that nothing has been done; it's been a year since he joined, suited up in his new body, and he still keeps hearing everyone and their mother protesting about the same thing. Sometimes, Genji swears he hears Commander Reyes laugh at their pleas.

Four, he's ridiculous enough to think that wearing a heavily contrasting cowboy hat over the blue Overwatch uniform is a good fashion choice. And finally, directly linked with number four: he's apparently the kind of person who breaks the ice by asking ludicrous things, as Genji gets to confirm one afternoon while waiting for his post-mission checkup down in the medical bay.

"Fuck, marry, kill: Doctor Ziegler, Commander Reyes, Sergeant Wilhelm. Go."

Genji takes a second to process three things: the fact that McCree’s first time directly addressing him is with a silly ten word sentence like this one, the fact that he's somehow found himself sitting next to McCree with the two of them far away from the rest of the strikers chatting and still waiting for their checkup, and the fact that he's putting too much effort into actually trying to understand what the cowboy's words meant.

Because he can’t possibly have meant what Genji thinks he meant.

Or maybe he did. Who knows. Honestly, Genji’s willing to give McCree the benefit of the doubt.

He finds himself frowning behind his faceplate, looking at McCree out of his peripheral vision on instinct. Right away Genji cringes; he's still getting used to the vertigo that settles in when his faceplate's HUD follows his eyes' movement.

McCree's resting his chin on his palm, elbow digging into his thigh for support. His face is slightly turned to look at Genji, tilted, his gaze locked where he probably thinks Genji’s eyes are hidden under the faceplate. A strange cat-like smirk rests on his face, and Genji feels an electric current replicating what would once have been a shudder down his spine.

Genji clears his throat once. “Pardon?”

“Fuck, marry, kill,” McCree repeats himself, the smirk growing into a full-blown Cheshire grin with every word said. “What, you never play that before?”

His first reaction is to bluff, but the next one is to go through with his self-imposed challenge to be a little more honest and less like his old self. “No,” Genji delivers while shaking his head slowly. “I have not.”

It’s surprising when McCree’s chuckle is actually rather pleasant to his ears. “It’s this old group game,” he begins explaining, gesturing with his free hand, “where ya pick three people and categorize ‘em dependin’ on who you’d fuck, marry, or kill.”

Well, there goes the benefit of the doubt.

Genji snorts. “That sounds ridiculous.”

McCree laughs along with him, obviously not knowing of the mechanisms of Genji’s internal roasting. “Maybe, kinda,” he shrugs. “But. It’s still fun, y’know?”

“Discussing the people whom one would prefer to bed, be married to, or murder?”

The cowboy shrugs. “Well, yeah?” he says, now having fully turned to look at Genji. Genji is aware of the door to the infirmary opening and a nurse calling out four names, neither ‘McCree’ nor ‘Shimada’ being anywhere in the list. "C’mon, man: Doctor Ziegler, Commander Reyes, Sergeant Wilhelm,” he repeats. “I’ll even share mine after you tell me yer answer."

Genji blinks. The part of him that’s still just an irresponsible kid from Hanamura urges him to play along and see where this is all going, while the part that’s slowly been acclimating to a life in Overwatch as an Agent is telling him to stay still and act like a soldier, act appropriately for once in his life. Both of them are telling him to be honest — ergo, the conflict.

And then there’s the social part of it all. Here is an opportunity for Genji Shimada to let loose and try to bond with someone other than Doctor Ziegler and Captain Morrison themselves, and yet he’s hesitating to take action because of how it will look. Soon enough he realizes he’s refusing to act on impulse in order to keep up appearances, and Genji feels himself scoff.

Weren’t appearances the one reason why he got into this mess in the first place?

Out of spite, Genji grits his teeth, the servos in his jaw noisy as artificial skin and bone slowly move, replicating the motions in an almost completely natural manner. In his memory Genji absently hears Doctor Ziegler’s voice, the woman mentioning something about ‘version one’ of his body, about certain functions being a little bit blockier than others. Perhaps the jaw’s movements are some of them, Genji thinks, the rest of his neck and torso loudly following suit as he turns.

Through the HUD, Genji makes eye contact with Jesse McCree, watches the other man’s grin slowly growing. Somehow, it’s even more inviting for his answer, so he ventures in. “Bed Sergeant Wilhelm,” Genji replies first, making sure to keep his words at least a little less vulgar than McCree’s, “marry Doctor Ziegler, end Commander Reyes’ life.”

What an answer.

Comically enough, the cowboy’s eyebrows shoot up. His jaw drops. “Dude,” McCree breathes, laughing the last syllable out. “Kill Reyes?”

Genji feels a shrug bubble up his spine, catches it just in time, and instead turns his head away slightly. He sighs, the filtering systems of his faceplate loudly picking up the excess air and easing it out through the discreet slits. “I do not have anything against the Commander,” he clarifies at once. “I just don’t think he would appreciate being put into any of the other options.”

“Chill, it ain’t like we’re gonna tell him,” McCree laughs. Genji finds the corner of his lips dangerously tugging upwards; the cowboy’s glee is contagious. Then he wiggles his eyebrows, the grin on his face turning incredulous, yet teasing. “Anyway— fuck Reinhardt?”

Even though the other won’t see it, he replies with an eyeroll. “I did not say ‘fuck’.”

“Ya just did,” McCree says.

“You were saying about sharing your answer if I picked?” Genji quickly changes the track this conversation is going towards, looking straight at McCree again to accentuate his point.

And McCree does this strange thing, where his eyes take a sort of mischievous shine to them as he licks his lips, preparing himself for an answer Genji feels he’s giving way too much importance to. McCree raises a hand and settles it at eye level between himself and the Japanese cyborg, one finger out, as if the gesture meant anything other than ‘I am going to start counting now’.

He takes a deep breath before speaking. “Fuck Commander Reyes,” he begins, dragging the ‘f’. He raises another finger, announcing, “Marry Angela.” And finally, for the final answer, McCree raises a third finger, actually allowing his expression to turn apologetic for a moment before it settles back into the strange determination from before as he says, “Kill Reinhardt.”

A beat passes them.

Two.

And then: “You would bed the Commander,” Genji deadpans.

McCree blinks, silent for a moment, before he looks away with a nervous, wobbly grin. “Well—”

“And you would murder Sergeant Wilhelm,” Genji continues, surprise leaking into his voice at the same time that his eyes widen. “Although I must admit I don’t know what I’m more shocked about: the previous two statements, or the fact that we would both marry Doctor Ziegler.”

Something seems to click in McCree’s head, his eyes widening as well, mirroring Genji’s own despite the fact that he can’t see it. His light brown gaze is lost to space for a moment as he looks away from Genji, over to the wall before his seat, making a sound at the back of his throat. “Woah, we would,” he whispers, face serious. He blinks twice, slow, right before a snort pierces through him.

McCree turns to look at Genji again, tips his hat, and winks. “Same hat,” the cowboy says.

Genji frowns in confusion. He’s debating whether or not to ask what the hell McCree could mean with ‘hat’ when Genji’s wearing nothing over his head, but it is right at the moment that his eyebrows furrow that the infirmary door opens once again, the nurse calling out more names from the list as the previous group of strikers exit the room. Finally does Genji realize the names are arranged in alphabetical order, and that they’ve now hit the ‘M’s; sure thing, right away does she call out Jesse McCree’s name, another two strikers rising from their seats and directing themselves towards the woman.

He rises as well, McCree, huffing and fixing up his belt. Genji looks up at him with a vague feeling of disappointment in his gut, watches the cowboy gesture at him with his hands in the vague shape of a couple of guns. He lets himself laugh when McCree pretends to shoot him with them.

At the last moment, while he watches McCree walk off and away towards the nurse, whom he then tips his at to before joining the rest of the strikers for his checkup, Genji realizes that as weird as their first interaction was, he’s ended up enjoying it. Ridiculous as a discussion on whom they’d bed, marry, and kill might have been, it’s also been rather entertaining, time having passed them by in a flash as McCree laughed and Genji slowly gave into his desire to the shadow of his old self before Overwatch ever happened.

Left alone, Genji sinks back into the world of his thoughts. Somehow, he’s only a little bit horrified when he finds himself thinking back on McCree’s prompt, trying to find the logic behind his and the man’s answers while he waits out here for his checkup. Marrying Ziegler seems like the least offensive thing he can do after her help in saving Genji’s life, but he’s not sure about bedding the Sergeant. With what little he’s heard about him Genji thinks that maybe he would’ve preferred to marry him — apparently the man is sunshine incarnated, jovial and endearing enough for Genji to have heard nothing but good things about him during his stay.

And then there’s the Commander. Genji maintains his choice, but finds himself baffled by McCree’s. With what they’d heard of the two of them’s relationship, Genji had pinned them as something closer to father and son, or maybe even as having something brotherly. But McCree’s answer...

What does the western world call it, again? Oedipus Complex?

Behind the faceplate, Genji bites his artificial lower lip, trying as hard as he can to hold in his laughter. Oh, man. He should do some research on that.

(Later, Genji will find himself sitting alone in the cafeteria during lunch, staring at his own hands in lieu of eating, and right then McCree will slam his tray in front of him and claim the seat for himself. Despite Genji’s protests and requests to explain himself McCree will prompt Genji once again, and the cyborg will have just about enough time to regret ever allowing this to happen back in the medbay before his mouth betrays him by immediately forming his answer.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'all: Micho, work on your Big Bang piece  
> Me: [Holding this fic close to my chest and with tears in my eyes] Listen,


	2. 2.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess who barely had a beta for this LOL

Here’s a list of what Genji Shimada has learned about Jesse McCree during the ten months following their little encounter in the medbay, or at least the short version of said list:

One, there’s more to McCree’s bonds with the rest of the base’s dwellers than just teacher-student dynamics, or parent-son in three very specific cases. Genji is shocked to find that hanging out with McCree — if it can even be called hanging out, since they're both usually on-duty while trading words that have slowly been bordering on friendly and casual — proves to be more than an eye-opening experience when, one morning, McCree spills the beans about the interpersonal relationships of all the people he knows as they walk into the training center.

And it’s exactly because of point number one that now Genji can’t look at Commander Reyes and Captain Morrison’s interactions without picturing them, in his head, as an old married couple looking over their kids, if all of Overwatch itself can be considered their children.

Two, he’s a man of fun first, sadness later, much preferring to joke around than let the mood around him darken. He’s just a sunny guy, McCree, and if he’s going to be honest, Genji finds his cheery disposition to be refreshing. On the worse days of his physical therapy, or on the _worst_ days when his mental and emotional stability crack dangerously at the seams, McCree’s always sure to be around, telling jokes after jokes in his stubborn self-imposed challenge to make Genji laugh more often.

Three, directly linked with number two, Genji was right about him having the most absurd sense of humor in the world; McCree just has no shame in the ways he entertains himself, apparently. And where their little prompt games about screwing and marrying are absent, they’re instead replaced with quick games of ‘never have I ever’, or categorization games that always start with someone turned into an ‘Eagle One’. They do it so often that sometimes other people join in, too; nothing has been more emotionally scarring than the time the Commander himself gave his own two cents on one of McCree’s prompts.

Thankfully, this isn't one of those times. Because it’s while the two of them are relatively alone that Jesse McCree chooses to go for another Fuck, Marry, Kill prompt, right in the middle of their sparring match as a partnered duo.

"Fuck, marry, kill, Captain edition: Captain Morrison, Captain Amari, Captain America.”

Genji’s been deliberately keeping his strength contained for McCree to adjust to having to fight a technologically enhanced human, but the rest of his senses are kept sharp in order to quickly counter the bigger man when he needs to. Yet as soon as he hears the prompt his movements freeze for less than a fraction of a second, the suddenness of it catching him by surprise and instantly turning the gears in his head, looking for an answer, and right then McCree takes his chance to tackle the smaller man down onto the mat.

They stumble together, Genji landing on his back with a very tall and very heavy cowboy on his chest. McCree’s mass is pressing him down on the floor, and for a moment Genji thanks the fact that his body can resist the other’s weight without any immediate repercussions. Immediate being the keyword — he still needs to remove McCree in case something fragile breaks. So Genji huffs, blinks twice, and pats at McCree’s shoulder; an indication to get the hell off him, or else Genji will use his enhanced arms just to shove him across the room to get him off.

It’s not the first time he’s threatened him like that. And it wouldn’t be the first time it happens, if it does.

With an awkward laugh McCree finally gets the message. He pries himself off Genji with a swift push, rolling instead to lie next to him over the mat, arms over his stomach as he stares at the high ceiling of the training center. He doesn’t move otherwise. Curious, Genji sits up, looking down at the cowboy through the improved HUD of his faceplate that doesn’t cause him vertigo or nausea; it’s amazing what ten months of modifications to his body can do for comfort.

McCree’s grinning brightly, and he looks so self-satisfied about his dirty win that Genji can’t help but snort. His breathing is coming in pants and tiny gasps with the effort of their fight, his cheeks are reddened, and his hair is sweaty and sticking out in odd places, sometimes to his forehead. It's been ten months and Genji still thinks he looks weird without the hat.

“Can’t believe that’s what it takes to  _ finally  _ beat ya,” McCree chuckles, locking eyes with the screen on Genji’s faceplate where his eyes are hidden behind of. “And since you lost, you gotta answer first.”

Genji scoffs. “Why would I?” He shakes his head. “McCree, we never made any bets.”

“But I saw ya, Genji. You were actually thinkin’ about it before I tackled you, weren’t you?” When Genji doesn’t respond McCree sighs, tucks his arms behind his head to pillow it, humming in victory while still grinning at the cyborg. “C’mon, partner. I wanna know.”

Genji stares at him for a moment, takes in the way McCree’s lounging on the mat as if they weren’t in the middle of programmed group training. The two of them have been acquaintances for long enough for Genji to notice the certain casualness added to everything the cowboy does, the way he doesn’t seem to worry about the repercussions to his actions, or getting into trouble; Genji wonders, for a moment, if this is all attributed to his close father-son relationship with the Commander himself.

He sighs. Even if McCree can do whatever he wants, that doesn’t mean he  _ should.  _ Because one of these days he’s going to do something stupid enough that not even the Commander will be able to save him, and then what? McCree desperately needs someone to act as his impulse control, and it is right here and now as they sit, ten months after their first official interaction off-duty, that Genji belatedly realizes he’s somehow taken the role as the physical embodiment of McCree’s conscience.

A physical conscience that still enables the man to do stupid things anyway, if it’ll get him some good laughs. But that’s what friends are for, right?

“We are supposed to be training,” Genji reasons. He is aware, however, that he has made no move to get up.

And McCree notices this, because he winks before he shrugs. “Five minute break?”

Genji takes a moment to look over his shoulder, taking in their surroundings in the center. There’s at least fifteen other agents currently engaged in combat in groups of all kinds of sizes, a bunch of individuals trying out the equipment further into the room, and a lot of others chatting or sitting down to catch their breath. 

Turning his head to look before him Genji notes how the rest of their striker group is just the same — there’s duos fighting with everything they’ve got, others competing with each other as if this were a death match, and a lot more sitting and cooling down, joking around and getting to know each other as if this were a high school P.E. class.

Their instructor isn’t killing anyone for inactivity, either. And it’s been around thirty minutes since they started to spar, so maybe they can take the five minute break, extend it a little for McCree’s sake.

He turns to look down at McCree again, letting his shoulders slump. “Fine,” Genji says. “Five minute break.”

McCree perks up instantly. “You gonna answer now, then?” he asks.

Rolling his eyes is futile with the faceplate on, but McCree’s so silly that Genji can’t help do it anyway. Still, there’s a fondness in the action by now, a certain warmth and amusement that cause him to smile and sigh. “What were my options, again?”

“Captain Morrison, Captain Amari, and Captain Rogers,” McCree delivers the names with a different intensity each, as if he were already giving his own answer hidden under the intonations of his voice. 

It’s so very like him that  Genji just lets that go. He looks away from McCree to stare at the floor for a moment, takes a short breath and holds it, thinking on the prompt until he’s formed an answer he’s satisfied with. “Bed Morrison,” he begins, “marry Amari, kill Captain Rogers.” Genji looks back at McCree. “That was easy.”

Without missing a beat, McCree’s already sitting up, gasping loudly as he gapes right into Genji’s face. “What the fuck?”  McCree splutters, looking so hurt and offended that Genji has to bite his tongue to keep from laughing. “You’d kill Captain America? What the _fuck,_ Genji.”

He shrugs. “I don’t see why I should care about Captain Rogers.”

“Holy shit,” McCree blurts out, suddenly breathless. “I can’t even believe you right now. And you’d fuck Morrison? Dude,” he shakes his head.  _ “Dude.” _

“As if your list was any better,” Genji taunts.

Predictably, McCree falls for it. “Of course it is!” he exclaims, setting a hand over his chest. “And it’s the correct answer, too: fuck Amari, marry Rogers, kill Morrison—”

“You would kill the second in command?” Genji interjects without missing a beat, jaw dropping. He’s staring at McCree with his eyes wide under the plate, and for a moment he’s grateful that the cowboy can’t see his face; it’d be incredibly embarrassing. “And  bed Captain Amari?”  he breathes.  _ “Amari?” _

McCree gulps visibly and audibly. “What?” he asks. “That wrong, or somethin’?”

“Isn't she like a mother to you?”

Watching McCree’s cheeks turning bright red should honestly not be as entertaining as Genji finds it to be, nor should seeing the way the cowboy screeches as he realizes what he’s just said be this hilarious. But they are, and just as McCree’s eyes widen and his face both pales and flushes, the laughter hiding back in Genji’s throat finally escapes; he bends over, hides his face in his knees, body’s servos exerting themselves as he trembles while cackling loudly.

“Oh, god,” Genji hears McCree crying out. “Why’d you have to say that?!”

Genji’s still hiding, but he’s slowly finding his self-control and pulling himself out of his fit through sheer willpower alone; there’s a voice at the back of his head, subdued and calm, urging him to pull himself together and stop embarrassing himself. Skin warm under the plate, Genji looks back up to meet McCree’s disgruntled face, the back of his hand instinctively making contact with the cold metal of his cheeks in a futile attempt to wipe the tears away.

Something twists in his stomach. The tears are uncomfortable, and he knows they will pool on his chin, dry on the last bits of his skin. He considers taking the faceplate off to properly wipe them off, but decides against it at the last minute — perhaps he will later, in private, but not in front of McCree. He doesn’t trust him that much just yet. “It’s not my fault,” Genji reminds McCree, allowing a small, bubbly snicker to tangle with his words. “You are the one who put her in the, pardon the word, ‘fuck’ section.”

“I wasn’t thinking!” McCree shrieks, his hands flying up to rest on his cheeks, eyes wide. At least his face is regaining a little bit of colour, but now he looks like he’s blushing even harder. “And I wasn’t thinkin’ about literally fuckin’ her, either!”

Genji actually stops at that, the last bits of his laughter dying out in his throat as he takes a deep and stabilizing breath, intently watching McCree. "What?" he asks, tilting his head slightly to the right. "What were you thinking other than bedding her, if you've put her in that section?"

McCree’s skin is so red now that Genji’s starting to make mental comparisons to food; tomatoes come to mind, then the redness of raw fish. “I dunno!” McCree raises his head back to look at Genji. “You just—” 

He suddenly stops. "Wait a minute," he mumbles.

Something feels off. For some reason he can’t explain, Genji doesn’t try to pry and ask him what’s wrong. He tilts his head instead, quiet, but the cowboy isn’t taking the silence; inching a little closer to him, his nose most likely just about to touch the metal faceplate, he squints.

“Yer sayin’ you categorized ‘em all with the intention of followin’ through?” McCree wants to know.

Oh.

Genji remains silent. He manages to maintain what sort of constitutes as eye contact for exactly one full minute, and then it just becomes too much — Genji turns his face away, clearing his throat to avoid hearing McCree’s loud _ ‘a-ha!’  _ that accompanies him snapping his fingers.

“You’d fuck Morrison—!”

_ “Urusai!”  _ Genji shouts back, shoving the cowboy down onto the mat with perhaps a little too much force. The components in his arm protest with the move, the resistance McCree's body weight imposes great, but not painful. McCree screams as he’s sent tumbling backwards to the floor, and Genji is immediately made aware of a couple of people looking their way.

He can pass this off as training, so Genji springs back up to his feet, trying to pretend to have just beaten McCree at yet another round of their sparring. He sets his hands on his hips and scoffs. The five minute break is probably way past over by now, and they should get back to action, anyway, before they anger their instructor and get into trouble.

McCree meets his gaze with shocked surprise while Genji rolls his shoulders twice, the mechanical pieces holding his limbs together to his torso whirring and clicking loudly. “Get up, McCree,” he calls. “In the name of my honor, I wish to, as you would say it, ‘kick your ass’.”

The word choice seems to be exactly what’s needed for McCree to forget about being pushed and laugh instead, struggling to stand. It’s time to get back to work. By the time the cowboy’s started to dust himself off Genji has already lowered himself back to a fighting stance, ready to distract his friend further from teasing Genji about being willing to bed Captain Morrison.

(Later, Ana Amari will return from her month-long mission in Bogotá, and upon seeing him again she will immediately squish McCree in her arms in a fierce bear hug only a mother would give. McCree will laugh and blush like a madman in her embrace, and in the background Genji will muffle his giggling by pressing his lips into a tight line, biting his tongue to avoid shouting something about Oedipus to let them have their moment.

He will, however, call McCree ‘Oedipus’ once Amari has left, and McCree will shove him and start the argument about Morrison again. Because friends tease each other about their Fuck, Marry, Kill choices relentlessly, or at least that’s what Genji’s learned.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guess who's updating every two days!!


	3. 3.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translation notes at the end!! Also thanks to Elliott for betaing <3

Here’s a list of what Genji Shimada now knows about Jesse McCree after having spent three and a half years in Overwatch as his best friend, or at least the short version of said list:

One, while the man is all smiles and sunshine, and while many would — and do — think him incapable of holding a conversation on feelings and mental issues, Genji Shimada now knows for a fact that Jesse McCree is actually one of the most sensitive and sensible people he’s ever had the pleasure to meet. This far into their friendship, there have been many times where Genji has found himself being comforted by a silent Jesse, held in his strong embrace as he trembles from either physical or psychological pain because of his new body’s nature.

It’s taken this long for Genji to finally finish processing what’s happened, and it’s hit him hard and heavy, sudden enough for him to give into his older desires to fester in his self-hatred. But every time Genji lets himself drown, Jesse always dives in after him, ready to help him back up with either quiet company, kind words, or even loud jokes and games.

There's always hugs, though. Always, without fail.

Two, Jesse is the kind of person who treats the people he considers friends or family with love and care, showering almost everyone in the Overwatch unit with tenderness and attention, helping where he can and carving his way into people’s hearts in a way Genji once seamlessly knew how to do. All of this leads directly to number three: Jesse gives love and friendship to anyone who might want and need him. He shines warm and bright like a nearby star, unafraid to show just how deep the well of affection in his heart goes. He’s so adoring that Genji begins to wonder if it’s actually bottomless and endless.

Yet despite Jesse’s real nature, despite how soft and warm in a deeply emotional level he can be, point number four still stands strong above anything else: Genji knows that the man is still a complete goofball, and that in his eyes, any moment is an appropriate moment to crack a joke or pull off another of the duo’s infamous ‘FMK Prompts.’

“Hey, Genji! F-M-K: me, Lena, Captain Morrison.”

Field missions are no exception, apparently. And neither is the fact that Genji  _ knows  _ the man is currently undergoing heavy enemy fire.

Genji’s laughing, though, a small sound as he runs through the small city’s rooftops, going as fast as his enhanced speed will allow him to. He’s requested permission from Commander Reyes to break formation so he could assist Jesse, a petition Reyes quickly granted while scolding the cowboy through the shared comm-line; the one reason why Jesse is in danger is because he’s been stupid enough to get himself to get trapped by a small squadron of Omnics while trying to flank the main forces. 

Now Jesse’s stuck in a building by himself, surrounded, while neither the Commander nor Captain Morrison can do anything to help him but to send Genji his way.

Genji snorts. What was that about Jesse and impulse control?

The sounds of the battle grow dimmer the further Genji gets from their formation. Thanks to routine and conditioning, Genji’s mind snaps away from the ridiculously tense nature of the situation to focus instead on giving his best friend a good answer. “Fuck Morrison,” Genji utters into his helmet’s integrated communication device, “marry Lena. Finally, kill you for being an absolute  _ boke.” _

“Aw, Genji,” comes Jesse’s voice through the comm, a breathless sound accompanied by muffled gunfire. Just hearing it is enough to get Genji to pick up the pace; he's almost to the location where Jesse’s personal transmitter is currently activated. Jumping out of a ruined building’s window, he clearly hears when Jesse continues with, “But ain't I the  _ boke  _ to your  _ tsukkomi?” _

At this Genji can’t help but laugh out loud, bionic legs absorbing the impact of his landing two stories below, the broad HUD of his faceplate activating to hopefully catch Jesse’s transmitter reading and actively pinpoint him. Genji shakes his head; teaching Jesse basic Japanese was either the best thing he’s done or the worst mistake of his life, but only time will tell. 

“Perhaps,” Genji says, rushing to take cover now that he's on ground level. “But that does not change the fact that you are an idiot for this. Now,” he adds, “please hold still while I try to locate you.”

He can hear the smirk on Jesse’s lips when he replies, quickly, “Also, you’d still fuck Morrison.”

Genji wants to playfully snap at him to shut up. In Spanish, too, so it stands out. He’s even got the word stuck between his lips, but much to his horror, someone else speaks before him, the crackling of static as they join the channel loud in his ears. “Excuse me,” says a modulated, clear voice. “You both are aware that you’re still on the main channel, right?”

Genji's entire body feels like it’s short-circuiting, his mind slamming down on the emergency  _ 'oh shit' _ breaks, because both he and Jesse have forgotten to switch to a private frequency and the one that's making it known to them is Captain Morrison himself, sounding bashful enough for Genji to tense, the working veins still left within him transferring enough blood for his face to heat up under the helmet.

He’d fuck Morrison. This had been established many years ago already, and the man just heard that bold statement. As did probably the rest of their team, and Oxton,  _ and  _ the Commander. Definitely the Commander.

And Genji, still mentally screeching, wants to strangle Jesse when all he has to say on the matter is a quick, breathless little  _ "whoops!" _

_ Boke _ barely covers it, now. Jesse's a full-on  _ pendejo. _

Something explodes to the south, far away but powerful, and it almost drowns out Oxton’s giggles and the Commander’s groan in the comm. At the mixture of sounds Genji’s body finally reconnects with his mind, and the first order of business is to stand back up and continue searching for Jesse before the man gets himself killed.

Now making his way through a wrecked warzone, Genji's left spluttering for a response to give to do some damage control. “I-I am so sorry, Captain! Jesse is only joking!” is what he comes up with.

“Oh,  _ please,  _ Shimada.” It’s Commander Reyes speaking this time, in the middle of annoyed grunts and what sound like shotgun fire. “We're all  _ very _ painfully aware of how seriously you take your fuck, marry, kill games.”

Jesse laughs awkwardly before Genji can reply. “You got it,  _ jefazo,” _  he speaks, the muffled sound of his own revolver's fire exploding into Genji's ears. "You, uh," he trails off a moment, gasping and grunting before continuing, "you wanna play with?"

Genji turns a corner, body lowered, just as Reyes scoffs. "Nah, I'll pass," the man says. "I'm a little busy at the moment."

"Aw, but we'd love ta hear your—" 

_ "Shizukani," _ Genji interjects. The HUD on Genji's faceplate has finally picked up the signal, closed in on a certain location ten meters away exactly. Something explodes again, the tell-tale beeping of what's clearly a Bastion unit in tank mode alerting Genji, and upon hearing it his artificial body shivers.

"Commander, I have located him," he reports, bashfulness gone and replaced with professionalism as he runs towards Jesse's location. "I am closing in on you, Jesse. Do not move."

There's a series of explosions happening next, the sound of Jesse laughing through them barely audible, but with a certain edge to it. In the HUD, Genji sees the cowboy's silhouette read movement to press himself against the wall, arms over his head as another explosion rings. "Don't think I can," he mutters into the comm through grit teeth, several types of gunfire except his revolver's picking up right then. "Kinda in a pinch here,  _ compa." _

"Then just try to not die!" Genji exclaims.

The comm-line goes quiet after this, save for a few other strikers confirming orders in-between status updates. The usual. Six meters away from Jesse, Genji rushes forward and runs up to the side of a ruined building to climb it, instincts from a life before Overwatch taking over as he nears the first opened window he can crawl into. 

With the loud whirring of his artificial body's components Genji rolls inside. The cowboy's downstairs, according to the readings, and the building is darkened with all the smoke and debris. Genji toggles his faceplate's night vision just in case. 

There's Bastion units trying to get in through the entrance, along with another three kinds of Omnics already pouring inside through broken windows on the first floor. All of them are walking aimlessly in the smoky darkness, roaming about shooting at anything that moves, somehow unable to just turn on their radar systems and other sensors to pinpoint their target.

Genji feels himself smirk. Perhaps Jesse's had the thought to disable them with a chaff grenade. Smart.

Moving away from the window and through the second floor, Genji quickly realizes this is a badly destroyed two-story suburban house. There are holes where there were probably bedroom doors, a toilet thrown out in the open hallway, burnt photographs and paintings on the walls and floor, and ashes covering what the chunks of wall and ceiling don't. It's a little depressing, but still Genji presses on; his best friend is close, and he can tell by the wavering numbers of the distance in the lower half of the HUD that he's started to move. 

He needs to catch Jesse before he does something stupid again.

Someone shrieks so loudly into the comm that Genji can't help but flinch, but the sound is drowned out the moment an Omnic suddenly bursts in through a window. Gasping in surprise, Genji barely remembers to skid to a stop and push himself away, reflexes kicking in as the Omnic begins to shoot with its sights set on him.

The onslaught of bullets coming from the semi-automatic rifles forces Genji to roll away towards the staircase, dive down to the first floor, and jump into the kitchen for cover before any of the Omnics downstairs can sense him. The numbers on the HUD reach zero and make him very aware that Jesse’s just about to crash onto him before it even happens.

Jesse, unfortunately, is still taken by surprise.

"Motherfuck—!" the cowboy shrieks, eyes shut tight as he falls onto the debris-covered tiled floor, finger squeezing his revolver's trigger in his surprise. It's a wild shot aimed at Genji's head. 

Thankfully, he's quick to sink down to avoid it, enhanced body once again his saviour. "Jesse."

Jesse opens his eyes, recognition filling them the instant he locks gazes with his best friend, and "Oh" is the first damn thing to come out of his mouth. Then, after he grins, "Hey, man."

Genji can't help but smile back. "Hey yourself," he says, following a script they've written together through the years. He grabs Jesse's arm, quickly hiding behind a counter and dragging the man along. "Commander," he opens the main comm-line back up. "I am now with Jesse. We will regroup as soon as we get out of here."

"Thank fuck. And about damn time!" is Commander Reyes' reply. "You’re in for a load of trouble, McCree!"

Beside him, Jesse whines and hits his head against the counter. Genji can't help snorting at him.

"Good job, Shimada," adds Captain Morrison.

The Commander snorts. "You're praising the guy who'd fuck you?"

"I've praised you  _ for _ fucking me, Reyes," Morrison deadpans. "You don't get to say anything."

Genji splutters, unsure whether to be amused, embarrassed, or impressed at Morrison's reply. There's a crackling in the line as several links open, gasps and giggles breaking into the network, some more people protesting and others cheering in Morrison's name.

How amusing it is that among them is Jesse's own disgusted groan, echoing both in the comm-line and in the kitchen, just as gunfire picks up from within the house.

Jesse’s fun is cut short and he curses, curling into himself to try and protect his head against the flying debris of the counter, clutching his revolver for dear life. The line's still a mess: the Commander trying to order everyone back to being quiet, people laughing on top of actual orders and status updates. Not waiting to hear how that ends up, Genji crawls out of his hiding spot once the gunfire ceases and makes his way to the back of the house, looking for an exit while knowing that Jesse’s following without even checking.

"Hey, Genji!" comes a new voice over the mess, loud and bright and cheerful enough to startle Jesse into slipping. Genji feels himself grinning when he realizes it's Oxton. "I just wanted to let you know," she continues, "that I think it's sweet that you'd marry me."

Rushing outside through the back door, Genji allows himself to laugh, the sound loud over Jesse's fire as he shoots at an Omnic awaiting them outside and the sound of Genji's own shurikens embedding themselves into its body and releasing a paralyzing electric current. 

Genji snorts. "I am sure you are a much better marriage option than Jesse," he replies, voice playful and sing-song even as he rolls for cover. "He is a good friend, but I know he would not be a good wife."

Oxton giggles at the same time that Jesse scoffs, far from Genji. "O-kay, partner, y'know what?" Jesse snaps, reloading over the gunfire. "I'll fuck myself, marry Lena, and kill Morrison."

And over the barely contained commotion of laughter, orders, and gasps, the Commander booms, "Excuse the  _ fuck _ outta me?!"

Again with the main channel.

Jesse's next shot misses its target when he yelps, the bullet hitting the Omnic and loudly ricocheting away instead of killing it. Immediately Genji shoots out another shuriken, the device successfully connecting with the hidden control panel underneath the Omnic's belly and discharging the electric current. Even as the machine falls and the path is cleared he still can't stop laughing.

As they run back to their squad, half the comm-network becomes once again consumed with laughter and hollering. Jesse’s now trying to calm an angry Reyes for daring to announce wanting to kill Morrison while everyone but Genji ignores Morrison's very distressed pleas to please shut up and take this mission seriously.

(Later, aboard the Overwatch Battlecruiser and after getting what he will refer to as 'the scolding of his life', Jesse will take a seat next to Genji and whine loudly, complaining about injustice while Genji reminds him of how stupid his actions were in the first place. At this Jesse will scoff, then set his head on top of Genji's, arms crossed, ready for sleep to claim him as he lowers his hat onto his face. 

Trapped under his best friend and taking on the role of pillow, Genji will sigh, closing his own eyes and attempting to chase after sleep as well while leaving the comm-line on in case of emergency.

Twenty minutes into his sleep, he will awaken with a jolt. Because Commander Reyes and Captain Morrison will apparently forget to turn off the communicator in Morrison's eyepiece, allowing a talk about Genji's answer to Jesse's prompt to filter into the network, followed quickly by some...  _questionable content,_  and as he turns off the comm-link Genji will know that there will be no one to blame for this but himself.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Translations and notes:**
> 
>   1. **Boke & Tsukkomi:** There is one particular style of traditional Japanese comedy called [manzai](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Manzai) (漫才), which is a type of two-man act. One man is called the boke, who is the buffoon; the jokester; the funny guy. The _boke_ will make jokes, and the other member of the pair -- called the _tsukkomi_ \-- will react to the them (often critically), taking on a role very much like "the straight man" in Western comedic practice.
>   2. **Pendejo:** Idiot, stupid
>   3. **Jefazo:** "Bigger" form of 'jefe', which means either 'boss' or 'dad'. It's like saying 'big boss'. ~~I can't believe Gabriel Reyes is Big Boss~~
>   4. **Shizukani:** Shut up, be quiet
>   5. **Compa:** Basically means 'buddy', comes from the word 'compadre'
> 



	4. 4.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again thank you so much for betaing for me, Elliott!!

They tell him a whole twenty four hours post-landing, and the first thing that Genji Shimada feels is rage.

He's vaguely aware of having shoved someone with too much force and rushing out of the hangar, making his way through the hallways and rooms of this American Overwatch base. He can hear Strike Commander Morrison calling out for him to stop, his loud footsteps echoing behind him, but Genji doesn't listen; he presses on, tapping into whatever speed enhancements his legs have been assembled with to set an uncontrollable pace, causing him to crash against walls and doors when he's not careful enough to decelerate.

It takes too long to get to his destination. Genji's not familiar enough with this place for it to be a smooth journey, nor is he thinking straight. He’s much too focused in the gnawing worry and hot anger spreading through the remains of his circulatory system in his body, and yet when he's finally in the right wing his heart freezes over, anxiety prickly and painful and halting his movements as he stands before the doors to the medical bay.

Genji grits his teeth, paralyzed in his spot. Slowly he realizes the idiocy of his actions, the part of him that was born four years ago that still wants him to act like a soldier reigning him in, begging him not to do this. Because he needs permission to go in there, doesn't he? He can't just waltz in like he owns the place. They'll just kick him out, and then what?

How will he see Jesse McCree, to make sure his  _ boke _ is still alive?

Who knows how long he spends there, fighting his own instincts and logic. The hand that suddenly drops on his shoulder startles him out of it, but the recognition upon seeing who it belongs to calms and subdues him as he realizes he's been caught. Staring up at Blackwatch Commander Gabriel Reyes, the fourth emotion Genji feels is defeat, buzzing lightly in his chest and spreading all over his limbs like blood.

"Chill. It's just me," Reyes says, voice tangled with a sigh. He pats at Genji's shoulder once, so gentle that Genji knows the man is consciously measuring the strength in the gesture. "Come with me, kid."

Reyes pushes the doors open before Genji can process what's happening, not bothering to look behind him to see if the other man is following. The doors come dangerously close to slamming themselves shut by the time Genji reacts, thrusting himself forward to move through, staggering down the infirmary hallway after Reyes.

The fifth thing Genji feels is crushing dread. Rushing down the infirmary like this, following his once-Commander's lead on his way to visit Jesse's room, Genji doesn't even know what to expect anymore. He doesn't even know what's happened to send Jesse to intensive care for a  _ whole week, _ doesn't even know why nobody had told him until the moment he'd arrived here as part of one of Morrison's squads. All of a sudden Genji feels cold again, wondering what it is that he'll see, if what's happened to Jesse really is bad enough to leave Genji in the dark.

He's not sure he can do this anymore.

Commander Reyes stops in front of a nurse, asks for directions, and signs a few papers before continuing on his way. Genji doesn't pay much attention. His consciousness dives in and out of the pool of emotions thundering in his heart, all-consuming and frightening him with the possibilities, with the pain. It's maddening. 

Genji chews on his artificial lower lip, breathing rapid as he slows to a walk. It's only when Reyes grabs him by the shoulder again, dragging him back from where he's walked past, that Genji comes back to reality.

He turns to look at Reyes' face and sees the man give him an unimpressed blank look after he rolls his eyes. Genji notes how he looks older, perhaps tired, patches of his skin covered in bandages and healing bruises. 

"He's in there," Reyes says, pointing to the door to his right — room 250. "Go on. I'll be out here if you need anything."

Holding Reyes' gaze, Genji feels the moment his mouth goes dry. His hands tingle and tremble as the ice cold anxiety in his heart releases through his whole system, spreading all over until it conquers him whole. Reyes' thick brows draw together and Genji turns away, blinking and inhaling rapidly behind his faceplate.

Behind this door is a reality Genji doesn't know if he can handle, a situation he's been blind to for seven whole days. The damages are unknown to him even if he could've asked; they’re consequences of the cowboy's switch from Overwatch to Blackwatch. He's gone somewhere Genji can't follow, and this is what's happened to him without the physical embodiment of his conscience and self-control there by his side, holding him back. 

He can't do this, Genji thinks, but he knows he has to. And he  _ wants to, _ more than anything— wants to barge inside and see Jesse, healthy and okay, giving him that cat-like smirk that slowly won him over, dissipating every possible bad end Genji's managed to go through in the span of only twenty minutes.

Twenty minutes. It's too long.

He has to do this.

Finally, he blinks. Genji takes one final deep breath, holds it for two seconds before exhaling, and nods to himself. He turns to look at Commander Reyes and finds him leaning against the wall, hood up, eyes hidden from Genji's view — it makes Genji wonder, for a moment, if this is the man's way of giving him some privacy. Neither of them says anything as Genji opens the door to room 250 and quietly slips inside, closing the door before him with a soft click.

He doesn't turn.

It's quiet in here, save for the beeping of the heart monitor and the machinery around the hospital bed. Letting go of the handle, the next order of business is for Genji's hands to fly up to the nape of his head, feeling around for the faceplate's catch. It comes off with a hiss, Genji carefully cupping it between his hands for removal, and he holds it before him as he takes a deep breath.

The room is so  _ bright _ without the protection of the HUD to filter the light, and it smells so strongly of antiseptic and alcohol that it leaves whatever's left of Genji's organs  _ twisting _ , aching, locked memories rushing out to engulf him like water. The electrical impulses from each image displayed in his mind's eye, sent from his brain to his artificial hands, cause them to tremble uncontrollably, metal of his fingers and palms clanking against the metal of the faceplate.

The impulses, wild and quick, are so speedy in their input that his whole body’s now starting to shake, lungs contracting painfully. And just like that suddenly Genji can't  _ breathe, _ picturing himself lying on his back on top of a hospital bed while staring up at bright, bright white lights, the pain in his whole body intense and immeasurable—

"Woah there," comes a weak voice, thick with concern, cutting the vision in half as Genji draws a sharp breath. "Look at me, Genji."

He starts. With a sharp move Genji looks over his shoulder, at once making eye contact with a pair of soft brown eyes, hazy with morphine. The sight clears Genji's mind of everything.

Jesse's hair is a mess without the hat on, and Genji almost laughs at how that's the first thing about all this that he notices. The cowboy's lying on his bed, hooked to machines that take his vitals and pump meds and anesthetics into his bloodstream to keep him without pain. There's even more bruises on his body than what Genji saw on Reyes, bandages covering him in odd places and in even larger amounts than the Blackwatch Commander.

A chair on the other side of the bed, to Jesse's right, sits haphazardly thrown away, as if whoever was here before had just up and left without much care for the poor object.

Jesse smiles tiredly. "Howdy," he croaks out before coughing, as if even the sole action of speaking were painful to him. "Hey. C'mere a sec, partner."

It's almost like his body moves on its own. Genji turns to face Jesse and walks forward, faceplate in his left hand and both hands faithfully to his sides. He keeps his eyes on Jesse's, brown locked with brown, both silent even once Genji's close enough to Jesse's bed for his knees to gently knock against it, to Jesse's left.

Standing before the man, it's a little easier to take in his injuries, the damage done, and at the clearer sight Genji's breath hitches in his throat. The two of them share a look: Jesse's eyes soft and irradiating a loving warmth reserved only for those closest to him, while Genji's own are unfocused and misty, flickering all over the cowboy's form. He's also still trembling, and this Jesse notices; he lifts a hand to—

"Genji," Jesse's voice is tight. "Please stop crying."

One blink and the tears drop down, warm against his cool skin. Genji sniffs and tightens his hold on himself by puffing his chest to avoid the imminent breaking of the dam around his heart. He focuses instead on the bandages covering the stub of Jesse's left arm and the way they go all the way up to his shoulder, coiling around it in an almost protective fashion.

Jesse flails his arm, trying obviously to reach up to touch the other's face with his hand. He stops midway and drops it back onto the mattress, reaches with his right hand instead.

Genji takes half a step back. "Don't."

Jesse tries to laugh despite the shake to the sound, the drugs in his bloodstream making his voice waver and slur, leaving him breathless for a moment. Genji freezes, eyes fluttering closed, and Jesse takes his chance to gently press his clumsy fingers to his friend's eyes, wiping tears away.

"I've told ya I don't like seein' ya cry," he mumbles.

The faceplate drops to the floor with a loud  _ clank,  _ and Genji reaches up to take Jesse's right hand into both of his, moving to the other side to occupy the chair for the cowboy's comfort. He doesn't let go. Once sitting beside him, Genji opens his mouth to say something, anything, but all that comes out of his throat is a low whining sound. 

Shoulders trembling, the flow of tears down his cheeks silent but steady, Genji lowers his head and clears his throat, resting his forehead against Jesse's knuckles.  _ 'You could have died,' _ he thinks, wanting to say it and becoming frustrated when no words come out.  _ 'Do not ever pull something like this ever again. I do not want to lose you. I cannot lose you. I don't want you to lose yourself like I have.' _

Jesse's grip is firmer than what Genji thought it would be like for a man so full of painkillers and moderately-fresh out of what must've been several surgeries. The cyborg keeps his eyes shut, mind stuck whirring between relief, hurt, and worry. His best friend just lost an arm. What's supposed to happen now? Are they going to replace it with some of Angela's tech, give him a robotic prosthetic instead that burns his nerves until the connection stabilizes?

Is this how it starts? With an arm?

Frustration builds up inside him, making Genji tighten his hold and sigh. The tears are slowing down now, and he's sure many of them fell on the other's hand. He sniffles, whines, and Jesse starts laughing, squeezing weakly at the metal hands clutching his.

"Hey, Genji," the man says. "I need your help with somethin'. You in?"

Without missing a beat Genji looks up, wiping at his cheeks. He sniffs again. "Anything."

"I can't decide who I'd fuck, marry, and kill between Doctor Brea, nurse Madigan, and Doctor Ziegler."

It's not fair. It is unfair how Jesse's grin is still as bright and warm even like this, and it's unfair how he dares to still prompt Genji at a time like this. It's even more unfair how Genji's lungs betray him immediately, wheezing out a short, watery laugh that he hides by shoving his face into his arm, resting on the mattress, more giggling threatening to burst out of him and fill the relative quiet of the room.

Jesse does laugh, however. A series of bubbly chuckles that widen the smile on Genji's face. "'Cause, y'know," Jesse squeezes at Genji's hands again, "I've been thinkin' about it for a while, but I can't get anywhere with it. Nurse Madigan is makin' it very difficult."

Genji doesn't raise his head, but he snorts. "I don't believe I know what nurse Madigan looks like."

He hears Jesse gasping. The man pulls his hand out of Genji's grasp and reaches over for the big red nurse call button next to his bed, squeezing it with a long beep. "You gotta see him," Jesse says. "He's  _ beautiful,  _ bordering on downright gorgeous."

"Which slot have you set him into?" Genji asks.

"That's why you gotta see him, so you can help me pick either fuck or marry for him." There's a pause between them before Jesse adds, "Don't tell him I'd fuck him when he gets here."

Genji's head is buried into his arms. With his right hand he reaches to take the cowboy's hand into his again, grip gentle but firm. It's calming to feel the man's steady pulse through the contact between skin and sensor-covered metal and to hear that heartbeat reflected in the monitor next to Jesse. Upon hearing the addition to his reply Genji laughs, the sound coming in a series of almost hysterical giggles that quickly turn to sobs, salty tears staining the pure white blanket.

They don't let go of each other even when Madigan arrives, or when Reyes walks in as the nurse asks what Jesse needs. Genji finds that perhaps a little more comforting than he ever thought it could be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ya didn't think I'd write a shitpost without hittin' emotional moments did ya


	5. 5.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you Elliott for betaing again!! Love ya, bud!!

Here’s a list of what Genji Shimada knows he's going to miss the most about Jesse McCree after he leaves Overwatch, or at least the short version of said list:

One: his ability to laugh and smile, even in the darkest of times, and spread light and happiness  just by moving a few facial muscles despite the hidden pain in his heart. Genji can’t recall the number of times his naturally optimistic character has pulled him — and sometimes even their whole team — out of a heavy mood, but he knows Jesse well enough to pinpoint the telltale signs of desperation and hurt in his eyes, in the sound of his laugh, and in his body language. It's part of a defense mechanism and they both know it; Jesse would rather laugh and grin before succumbing to anxiety and sadness, before allowing whatever demons he carries get the best of him.

It works for him, at least, and that's what counts the most. Jesse’s determination is part of what makes him the most admirable person Genji has ever met, along with point number two of the things Genji will miss: his loyalty and affectionate nature.

Even with the separation within the organization that Morrison's promotion has caused, with the birth of Blackwatch and the tension from the media, and the losses in their lives, Jesse's continuous love and kindness make life in Overwatch just that little bit easier for everyone he knows, especially Genji. And as life goes on, as their respective branches consume Genji and Jesse's lives, every short minute they can spend together feels like a safe haven for the cyborg. It's a break in the routine, a moment to just be a man hanging out with his best friend rather than a Blackwatch reject transferred to Overwatch within the first few weeks by Commander Reyes himself.

Genji sighs for the umpteenth time today. Sitting here atop the Overwatch Swiss base's roof, his back against the only entry point and his entire right side touching Jesse's left, Genji racks his brain to continue with his list.

A long overdue meeting between Morrison and Reyes is the reason while Jesse's here, and while he's not needed, the cowboy's taken to monopolizing Genji’s time with the intention of spending every hour they can to just, quote, chill, unquote. So now they’re up here, alone together, with Genji’s helmet sitting comfortably on the ground as Jesse rests his left leg on top of Genji’s right.

Genji’s exposed nose gets the full blunt of Jesse's cigar smoke, but this time the cyborg makes no comment for the other to put it out. Instead he focuses on point number three, the current subject of conversation: Jesse's stupid, awful, endearing sense of humour that’s stuck to Genji through the years, the same one that has helped shape him into the man he is now.

"F-M-K: Winston, Athena, Torbjörn."

Genji snorts. The vibrations of the sound travel through his metal shoulder to Jesse's, making the cowboy laugh along in response, smoke clinging to his lips as Genji counts with his fingers.

"Fuck Athena," the cyborg mumbles, "marry Winston, kill Torbjörn."

Jesse doesn't even wait: "How the hell do you fuck an AI?" he asks.

There's a couple of silent seconds after the question during which Jesse takes the cigar between his fingers and inhales some of that godforsaken smoke. He then snorts and says, “You actually ain’t got a clue, do ya?”

Genji rests his head against Jesse’s shoulder, smiling softly and hooking their arms together. He waits until the rest of Jesse’s smoke has dissipated before speaking. “I do not.”

“Har har, darlin’,” Jesse says, playfully shoving Genji. “What the heck kinda answer is that? I thought you took these things seriously.”

“And I do, Jess. I just do not know how one would go about bedding an AI.”

Jesse shrugs. “Life, uh, finds a way?” he asks. Then he goes and laughs at his own words, the fool, snorting and chortling so hard he accidentally bites down on the cigar.

Genji rolls his eyes. “Anyway,” he says, “what would your answer be?”

The cowboy turns his head to look at Genji, and the two’s gazes lock. Jesse’s grin shows teeth, amusement clear in his eyes as he removes the cigar from his lips to answer. “Fuck Athena,” he begins, sticking one finger from his free hand out, so reminiscent of that time he’d counted along with his first answer all those years ago that Genji has to look away from him. "Marry Torbjörn,” he continues, “and kill Winston.”

“Picking to murder Winston while picking to fuck Athena is like killing her father to bed her,” is the first thing Genji thinks to say. Then, before Jesse even has a chance to reply, he adds, “And we cannot both fuck her. I called dibs.”

“He’s more like her brother,” Jesse muses. “And we’ve both picked the same person to fuck before. What’s different this time, huh?”

A shrug. “I want to be the first person to have fucked an AI?”

“Honey, don’t make me kinkshame.”

“You wouldn’t kinkshame your best friend.”

“Oh, I would.” Jesse laughs. He brings the cigar back to his lips and inhales, blowing the smoke up above his head and watching as it spreads and falls over them, the smell intense and heavy. “Might I remind ya,” Jesse adds, tapping his prosthetic’s fingers to Genji’s metal belly, “‘bout The Great Madigan Incident of September sixth, 2069?”

Genji removes his head from Jesse’s shoulder, looking up at the man with wide eyes, his jaw dropped. “You said you would not use that against me.”

The cowboy winks. “And I ain’t. I’m just remindin’ ya.”

“Do not sass me, Jess,” Genji all but pouts, brows furrowed as he stabs his finger against his best friend’s chest. “And do not judge me. An opportunity like that only happens once every hundred years — literally.” He sighs. “What else was I supposed to do?”

Another laugh of Jesse’s tangles with the cigar’s smoke. Genji flattens his hand on Jesse’s left pec, the vibrations of his laughter pleasant against the cyborg’s palm as he takes in the way it mixes with his heartbeat, the sensors of his artificial skin hyperaware of every little detail.

Silence settles upon them again, light and comforting like a blanket in autumn, and Genji can’t help but sigh as he sets his head against the other’s chest.

Jesse continues to sporadically inhale and exhale smoke, consuming the cigar between his fingers the same way time consumes minutes. Genji can feel the rise and fall of the other’s breathing, the gentle _ba-dump_ of his heart, the movement of the man’s muscles as he unhooks their arms to wrap his prosthetic around Genji’s shoulders. It’s like a symphony, and belatedly Genji notices that he’s synced his breaths with Jesse’s.

The sun is setting in the horizon and bringing the night closer, eating away at their last moments together and bringing darkness to their little safe haven. The sky is painted with reds, blues, and purples, the breeze picking up as temperature lowers; beside him, Genji feels Jesse shiver as he puts out the butt of the finished cigar. Almost as if they were sensing the night crawling into the sky, crickets begin to sing, the automatic lights of the roof turning on as soon as they sense a sufficient lack of sunlight.

Genji feels his palm curl to grab a fistful of Jesse’s shirt. Time is running out, isn’t it?

He will miss him. He will miss the comfortable intimacy they share and everything that led to it — the moments they’ve spent growing closer, the _everything_ about Jesse that’s slowly become a part of Genji’s daily routine since their first meeting years ago. He has become such a prominent figure in Genji’s life that the cyborg isn’t sure how he will deal with his departure, the reality of what the words _‘I’m leaving’_ truly mean finally crashing down on him as time moves on around them.

Jesse shifts and huffs, abruptly bringing Genji back to the present. With a blink the cyborg realizes that, somehow, he’s ended up practically sitting on the other’s lap, held in his arms with a tenderness he knows no one but a handful of people would ever associate with Jesse McCree. He’s one of the lucky few, Genji guesses. In response he sighs, practically nuzzles into the other’s embrace, and properly wraps his own arms around his best friend’s torso.

“I am going to miss you, you know,” he paraphrases.

It’s sudden. Jesse’s hold on Genji tightens for one split second when he hears that, only to relax quickly as he chuckles softly. It sounds and feels nice, but Genji hears the exhaustion hidden in it and knows that the other’s probably trying to make light of the situation. “I’m gonna miss ya too, hun,” he mumbles close to Genji’s head before pressing a quick kiss there.

Genji squirms a little. “Will I ever see you again?” he asks in a whisper.

And Jesse pats at his back, humming low. He remains quiet, the answer implicit in his silence. _‘I don’t know,’_ it says, mixing with the apology hiding in the way Jesse rubs small, gentle circles on Genji’s back.

The cyborg feels himself deflate ever so slightly, melting into the touch. Figures he wouldn’t know. Of course.

Maybe they won’t ever see each other again, after all.

“Hey,” Jesse says, squeezing once at the smaller man to get his attention. “We’ll figure it out. And y’know my favourite frequency number. Ya ever need me, you could just tune in. I could try to keep it consistent, too, no matter the device I wind up usin’.”

Genji feels the laugh bubbling up his throat release itself in small giggles. “140.69,” he recites. Jesse whistles loudly in confirmation above Genji’s head, the sound making his giggles crescendo in their volume until they make a short cackle. “You are _impossible_.” Genji shakes his head as he speaks, voice filled with such fondness that he’s sure Jesse can tell he’s just joking.

“Naw, sweetheart,” Jesse says. “I’m a fuckin’ delight. Ten outta ten, would befriend again.”

“Eh, I think you are probably a six out of ten.” The cyborg removes his scarred face off the cowboy’s chest to lazily look him up and down — to shamelessly check him out while smirking. Once done with that he locks eyes again, hums, and shrugs. “Though I admit that you could be a seven if you took a shower.”

Jesse scoffs. “I’m more of a nine,” he replies, slowly smiling and winking down at his best friend, “and darlin’, you’re the one I need.”

Genji raises both eyebrows and snorts. The powerful grin he feels grow slowly on his face is at once reflected on Jesse’s, and the sight makes Genji’s heart flutter; Jesse’s smiles make him an almost eight out of ten most of the time, but there's no way he'll go and stroke the cowboy's ego any more than he already has in the past years.

“Oh, Jess,” he says sweetly, patting at the man’s chest, “I am afraid you will have to find another one. I already am a ten.”

The booming laugh Jesse rewards him with is worth the drop of spit that lands on Genji's cheek. Used to it already from years of making his best friend laugh, he wipes at it quickly before the other can notice, still watching Jesse rub at his left eye with his gloved hand.

“You lil' shit,” Jesse breathes, squeezing Genji into the hug again.

And this time, Genji is the one who winks. _“Pero tu me quieres.”_

“Yeah, actually. I do.”

Genji’s cockiness slips off his system, grin falling as he blinks. Jesse’s giving him such a warm, adoring look that it nearly knocks the wind out of Genji's lungs.

His heart gets caught in his throat and his eyes start burning. Jesse’s like a sun right in the middle of the night, radiating a fondness that almost succeeds in pushing the inevitable goodbye that’s to come out of Genji’s vocabulary completely, replacing it instead with an unbearable need to let this man know how much he’s made Genji’s life better just by existing.

There’s so much to say in this moment, so much Genji wants Jesse to know, so much he wants to ask. It’s like an eternity passes them in one second, the world fading to second plane and then to black as they spend their last few minutes just looking at each other before breaking out into laughter.

He really loves Jesse’s laugh. It’s some sort of a purifying sound, washing over Genji and taking away all the bad in the world. Genji finds it infuriating when it’s interrupted by the ringing of Jesse’s personal phone, the loud trumpets of the music that filter into their personal bubble annoying when once they were hilarious.

The moment is lost, and their joyous laughs turn small and awkward. What’s left of the smile on Jesse’s lips turns sheepish as he reaches down to fish the device out of his back pocket, Genji shrugging as he helpfully removes himself off his friend’s lap. Almost as fast as it started the music comes to an end, the crickets seemingly louder in its ridiculous absence.

Jesse checks the caller ID and huffs. “That’s the Boss,” he mumbles. The cowboy looks back up and shrugs, obviously abashed. “Guess the meeting’s over.”

Genji nods and looks down at the floor. “Mm.”

Jesse nods back, then exhales loudly. “C’mon,” he grunts, getting up and shoving the phone back into his pocket before offering a hand to help pull Genji back up. His grip is strong and secure. “He ain’t gonna tell you to your face, but Reyes is always askin’ me about ya,” he smiles. “I bet he’d love seein’ you again.”

He’s trying to make Genji laugh, and doesn’t relent even when he knows Genji already knows. Without waiting for an agreement or refusal, Jesse wraps his prosthetic arm around his friend’s shoulders once they’re both standing, swaying them as they step away from their spot and off to the entrance.

(Later, two days after the initial rooftop meeting, their time will officially run out once the clock reads noon. After saying his goodbyes to everyone else Jesse will crush Genji in such a tight hug that Genji will almost fear for his artificial spine, but he’ll cling to the man just as tightly, bury his face against his broad chest for what might as well be the last time.

It’ll take both Morrison and Reyes interfering to pry them apart, and under his faceplate Genji will let himself cry freely at the loss of his one confidante and partner in crime. Yet as Reyes drags the cowboy out of the Swiss base and out of his life, he will cup his hands around his mouth and shout a phrase for Genji, one last goodbye:

 _‘Jaa nee, aibou!’_ )

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> @ Grant, who kept saying I was teasing w McGenji: _WHAT'S GOOD!!!!!_
> 
> **Notes and Translations**
> 
>   1. Genji's "I'm a ten" dialogue was inspired by [this](https://www.google.com/url?q=http://infinite-atmosphere.tumblr.com/post/150693893221/shoves-aside-supportive-nice-and-cute-genji-to&sa=D&ust=1475937681060000&usg=AFQjCNHNWiQLL64MZwfXgVQB5X-2V0uTsg) hilarious comic omfg. Thank you for drawing this
>   2. **"Pero tu me quieres":** "But you love me", but said in a more casual, maybe more platonic way. It could be taken as romantic tho if you want ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯!!!
>   3. [Here's](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cUN9sX86ZwA) Jesse's ringtone in all its glory. I couldn't resist. ~~Era esto o ponerle la de Payaso de Rodeo~~
>   4. **"Jaa nee, aibou":** "See you later, partner."
> 

> 
> Only one last chapter to go, y'all! Hold onto your seats and see ya in two days!


	6. +1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A thousand apologies for the late update but today was kinda hectic @_@

Here’s a list of what Genji Shimada is looking forward to the most since accepting the Recall, or at least the short version of said list:

One, if he’s going to be honest, is the sense of justice and purpose he often associated with the organization before its decay and fall. Though the years spent wandering the world with Master Zenyatta have been a wonderful, eye-opening experience, Genji must admit that there’s always something at the back of his head urging him to fight on, something that was planted in his subconscious from his Overwatch days.

It’s probably just his soldier training combined with the thirst for justice and an urge to do the right thing, the morals and values instilled into him through the years spent in the unit acting as the glue that sticks it all together inside him. And no matter how many of Zenyatta’s meditation tactics and other calming techniques he tries, the urge still stands strong, growing the more his self-hatred diminishes, taking up the space it leaves behind.

It does calm down a little, at least, once the two of them arrive to the Gibraltar Watchpoint.

Stepping inside and being immediately caught in an embrace by none other than Lena Oxton herself, Genji laughs and remembers point number two: his teammates and friends. It was already comforting and familiar to be greeted by Winston again after the five years post-Petras Act without any news on his comrades, but getting to hug one of them, the cheerful British woman, again is perhaps a little bit more so.

Years of friendship with her rush back into his mind in a second as soon as his arms wrap around her waist. Lena, surely remembering as well, makes a joke about their wedding being overdue. Upon hearing it Genji laughs, mockingly apologizing and making a playful comment about his hand already having been claimed somewhere in the past five years.

He catches the way her almond eyes discreetly flick to the floating Omnic by Genji’s right for a second, the way her grin grows by merely a fraction. Lena’s always been smart, and she hasn’t aged a year even though she should be in her forties by now. Seems like her mind’s stayed just as sharp as her reflexes have.

Whether or not Zenyatta noticed the glance he doesn’t say, but Genji allows himself to laugh softly as he introduces the two and his master instantly enchants and calms Lena by mentioning Mondatta and his teachings.

As the days go by and their numbers increase, Genji makes sure to keep Zenyatta away from those who still have the seeds of prejudice in their hearts, instead having him  spend a bit longer with people like Lúcio and Hana. He has hope that the older members of his little militarized family can learn to accept the Omnic; that in time, they can learn to follow the younger generation’s example.

At least some of the more accepting people arrive first. When Reinhardt rushes in five weeks after Genji does, the first thing he thinks to do is pick up the cyborg and hold him close to his chest, then put him down and immediately begin socializing with Zenyatta. A month later Doctor Angela Ziegler shows up as well, and hers is another hug that Genji’s been aching to give and receive.

She speaks to Zenyatta of the Shambali and Mondatta, of a few news she’s heard, and gently asks for him to expand on it. Lena’s always around when they speak of the subject.

Angela isn’t alone in her arrival — following her is a woman in blue armour and a beautifully rich accent, the dark skin under her helmet familiar and recognizable with only one glance. The embrace Genji shares with Ana’s daughter lingers with an old, gentle feeling of protectiveness and familial love that feels a little out of place in the present day; she’s become an exceptionally competent woman. Genji’s heart swells with pride just as he knows Ana’s would have, and he’s even happier when Zenyatta takes a liking to her almost right away.

Fareeha’s grown so much since the last time he saw her, too. It’s with a mutual laugh, as they pull apart from their hug, that they both realize she’s now taller than him. Oh, how the tables have turned.

It doesn’t take too long for Genji to go through the entire complex with the Omnic, introducing him to everyone that will have him and retelling old stories of Overwatch’s golden days. And Zenyatta loves to listen; he gets this sweet little tone in his voice whenever he laughs at the funny tales and always has the sweetest, most comforting words to offer regarding the more poignant ones. 

Zenyatta offers support and warmth to all these people whom he’s barely just met. Slowly but surely does the Omnic warm his way into everyone’s hearts, brightening the world around him like a star. It sparks quite a few memories to resurface in Genji’s mind and he deliberately tries hard to ignore them, to not to make the obvious comparison, to not to give into the gnawing worry at the pit of his stomach as the days go by. 

He succeeds for a while by focusing instead on catching up with the old friends he has and getting to know the new ones that arrive. And when he’s not out there participating in whatever mission Winston cooks up, or socializing with the Watchpoint’s dwellers, Genji’s usually found meditating with Zenyatta on top of the buildings overlooking the Mediterranean sea with nothing but the sound of the waves crashing with the cliff and the birds flying high above to make them company.

That is, until one late afternoon Lena decides to interrupt their silence to announce a new arrival that Genji  _ just _ has to come and see, and after receiving Zenyatta’s permission to leave their session Genji rushes after her to meet the newcomer.

Approximately eight months since receiving the Recall, and exactly five months since Genji’s own arrival to the Watchpoint,  _ he _ walks in.

Or rather,  _ they _ walk in.

Firstly, there’s not much about Hanzo Shimada that has changed since the day Genji tried to get him to come back to Gibraltar with him. He still carries himself with the pride of a broken ace of cards, still radiates that aura of authority and self-control that only Genji knows is a mask to shield the guilt he’s allowed to fester in him over the years — the guilt of a man who has followed orders without questioning them, the guilt of a murderer who did not hesitate to spill the blood of his own kin. 

It’s clear as daylight on his face, now. He’d been very good at hiding his pain before. Even during their fight months ago, years after Genji’s self-loathing and resentment subsided, after he could finally find it in his heart to forgive his older brother as the anger and pain slowly filtered out of his system.

Time changes everything.

Hanzo walks into the Watchpoint with his posture straight and elegant, so unchanged from the way he’d presented himself when the two brothers were still young, with Hanzo desperate to prove himself and only Genji knowing how far he’d really go to seem worthy. The soft pit-pat of his prosthetics echoes through the main hallway as the rest of the New Overwatch unit rushes forth to greet him and his companion, eager to meet the newcomer and the veteran.

Because right there, to Hanzo’s left, stands Jesse McCree himself, tall and proud and sporting the smuggest grin on his face that Genji’s ever seen on his life. And upon setting his sights on it, on  _ him, _ Genji feels like his heart stops for a moment only to then kickstart itself with a pump of adrenaline and excitement.

The red serape around his neck is new, but the hat on top of his head is ripped and burnt exactly in the same spots Genji remembers it once was. Jesse’s beard and wild brown hair have grown so long in the past few years, too, and Genji gets the strangest urge to run his fingers through it, mess it up even more and steal the hat like he used to do when he was in his twenties.

Genji doesn’t know when it was that he stopped in the middle of the hallway just to watch his brother and best friend become surrounded by the rest their agents, but now he finds himself frozen in place, taking in the sight without moving an inch. 

How and why is it that they are here together? When did they ever meet, and how did Jesse even get the prickly fallen heir to follow him? He sees Hanzo take a step back upon seeing the sheer amount of people that amasses around them, discreetly hiding behind Jesse. Then he sees the way Jesse, without stopping his current conversation with Angela and Fareeha, steps before the other man to practically shield him, and it  _ clicks. _

It’s a trusting gesture. There’s even a level of intimacy in it that Genji can recognize as something Jesse used to do for him. It’s familiar.

Hanzo and Jesse. His brother and his best friend. 

Genji grins.

While Hanzo’s too busy trying to find some way to reply to every rapid-fire question that Lena shoots his way, the cyborg takes a deep breath, straightens his back, and begins walking forward towards the crowd that’s gathered. Genji deliberately makes his steps as loud as possible so they echo through the room, alerting everybody who knows what to listen for to his presence.

As expected, Jesse picks up the sound. In a split second the smile he holds for Angela falters, his eyes widen, and his head turns to look past the two women before him to instead see Genji Shimada stop once again a few meters away — stop in his tracks the same way his heart has upon meeting the man’s eyes.

From where he stands Genji still can hear the sharp breath the cowboy takes. Coming back to the present Jesse excuses himself to everyone else with a tip of his hat, turns back to look at Hanzo for a second, then back around to gently push past Fareeha. 

He’s half walking, half jogging on his way to meet the cyborg. His grin grows larger and more excited by the second. The hat flops on his head, the serape flows behind him, the spurs on his boots jingle with each step. His exhilaration is contagious and electric enough to push Genji forward to meet the man halfway, the two of them hurrying to each other after years of separation and complete loss of communication.

Here, in front of everybody and without giving a damn, Genji Shimada embraces Jesse McCree tight enough for the taller man to pick him up and spin him around twice, blessing Genji’s ears with the glorious sound that is his laughter.

Jesse sets him back down abruptly enough for Genji to lose his balance for a second, but with Jesse’s arms still around him, the cyborg remains in place. They sway momentarily and Jesse pats his back, stabilizing him, laughing still with his face buried into Genji’s shoulder. Quickly, Genji notices how  _ tall _ his best friend has grown; Jesse’s half wrapped over Genji, bent over in an awkward angle just to keep his face where it is. 

Genji reaches up and pats the man’s head. His hair is so badly taken care of, and it sticks out oddly at some points, almost like Lena’s. This is definitely hat hair. Genji considers stealing the offending accessory right then, his hand already twitching on Jesse’s back to make a grab for it

Then another idea strikes, and it’s _ brilliant. _

Genji pats at Jesse’s back twice to get the man’s attention. He angles his face so it’s directly against Jesse’s ear, licks his grinning lips in anticipation. “Jess,” he whispers, skipping the hello to say his name and relishing in the way the cowboy chuckles and squishes at him. 

“Jess,” Genji repeats himself. “F-M-K: Hanzo, Angela, me.”

Jesse gasps and raises his head. They stand there, face to face. 

A beat passes them.

Two.

And then Jesse barks out such a  _ booming _ cackle, the sound loud enough to rival Reinhardt’s joyous laughter and sending shivers up Genji’s spine that quickly burst out of his mouth as giggles. Point number three of things he’d been looking forward to the most, of things he’s missed: Jesse McCree himself and his over-the-top affectionate nature that matches Zenyatta’s peacefully loving nature.

Here, lost together in their personal bubble while standing in the middle of a crowded room, Genji can’t help but feel his heart swelling as he’s taken back in time. Just like that suddenly Genji is a young and naïve man once again. A man sitting in the medbay while waiting for his checkup, taking a five minute break during practice, rushing through a battlefield or rushing through a Blackwatch base, watching the sunset — always together with the cowboy by his side. 

It’s been so long.

Jesse lets go of Genji to wipe at his face, the grin still present and even brighter despite the current tears. Happy tears, maybe, if the sporadic chuckles are anything to go by. 

On instinct, Genji reaches up to wipe at them himself. It’s routine, really. It’s normal between the two of them. What he’s not expecting is for Jesse to catch his hand halfway and hold it, or for him to bring it up to his lips and kiss it tenderly. It’s not what he expects at all; it’s so much better, even the way it makes Genji’s breath catch in his throat at the same time that his cheeks flush.

_“Okaeri, Oedipus-san,”_ comes Genji’s breathless greeting.

Jesse laughs again. He sniffs and drops Genji’s hand to reach up to his hat instead, tipping it gently with a wink. 

_ “Tadaima.” _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Roll credits!!](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WLGMyo8wfPc)
> 
> PHEW!!! ALRIGHT!!! That was a fun ride, huh!! I'm _so_ glad to finally see this come to a conclusion, and even happier with the lovely reception it's gotten. Thank you all for reading and enjoying my story!! I hope you liked it just as much as I liked writing it!!
> 
> Special thanks, once again, go to Aly, Megs, Geebee, and Elliott for helping me so much through this whole thing. Also to the entire Discord server for being the loveliest enablers ever, for accompanying me through this fic, and for being kind enough to give me their opinions on my chapters and their reactions <3 you're all wonderful people and I hope you're happy with where I took this story!! ~~Grant, I'll see if I can write ya a Real Romantic McGenji one day I feel bad for teasin' ya~~
> 
> Anyway-- that's all, folks!! Thank you all and I hope you have a lovely day!! And click [here](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LjiAF_3ZLfk) for the alternate credits song lmao
> 
> P.S: Jesse's answer to the prompt would be fuck Genji, marry Hanzo, and kill Angela. Meanwhile, Genji would fuck himself, marry Angela, and kill Hanzo. Just in case ya wanted to know lol
> 
> See ya next fic ;3c

**Author's Note:**

> Shameless plug maneuver! Follow me on Twitter [@championrevali!](https://twitter.com/championrevali)


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